


Broken Trust

by machka



Series: Hard Lessons [1]
Category: American Idol RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tulsa Gangstas
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-15
Updated: 2008-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machka/pseuds/machka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://www.ecstagony.com/eng/info/artgen/ssc.htm">Three words remembered</a> would've made this work...but another was spoken because he forgot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: [These things right here](http://community.livejournal.com/cohnstro/15263.html#cutid1).
> 
> So, somehow that fluffy prompt turned in the angst fic from Hell. This is not the same universe as "Blind Trust" -- here, Michael and David "switch" as to who's the Dominant and who's the submissive -- that's kind of where things start to go wrong. :-/
> 
> This very nearly didn't get written, but [annie2791](http://annie2791.livejournal.com/profile) nagged me to do it anyway. Blame her. :P
> 
> For the Cohnstro LiveJournal community's fic contest, [prompt 2](http://community.livejournal.com/cohnstro/15263.html).
> 
> Crossposted to the [idolslash](http://community.livejournal.com/idolslash/653216.html) community on LiveJournal.
> 
> Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. The events described therein are not intended to represent actual events. No libel or defamation is intended in posting said fictitious work.
> 
> In other words, it's not real, because I made it all up.

"Hey, Mikey!" David called out, bounding into their shared room. "Jase wants to know if you're up for a coffee run--?"

Surprised by the intrusion, Michael startled visibly and spun around to face him, shoving something in his hands behind his back. "Dave! What's up?"

David's sharp eyes missed very little. "What'cha got behind your back?"

"Nothing."

"'Nothing', my ass, Johns. You've got _some_ thing back there that you don't want to share!" David replied with a half-smile, eyes glittering. "C'mon, lemme see what you're hiding, Mikey. It's not wise to keep secrets from me, y'know."

The teasing whine in his voice was precisely calculated to undo Michael's resolve, and they both knew it. Michael couldn't help but respond with a smirk of his own, a shade more predatory than his roommate's. "You _sure_ you wanna know?" he asked tauntingly, his voice rumbling low in his chest.

David's eyes narrowed, impatience tightening his jaw. "Just show me already!"

Michael's smile spread slowly across his face as he drew an arm from behind his back.

David's mouth fell open in shock.

"Um, Michael?" he said softly, "What the fuck are those?"

"It's obvious, David - they're fuzzy pink handcuffs," Michael replied. He stifled a giggle at the look of horror on the younger man's face, as David stared at the colorful abomination dangling from his finger. "I thought maybe you'd like to try something new," he continued, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Uh, _no way_ ," David declined emphatically, raising his hands as if to ward off the mere thought of it.

Ducking his head coyly, Michael fixed the other man with a sidelong glance. "Aw, c'mon, Davey," he purred seductively, "Give 'em a chance."

In the blink of an eye, Michael's free hand shot out to grab one of David's wrists, snapping a cuff shut on it with his other hand.

"Feel how soft they are?" he laughed, dragging David closer to him.

"Michael..." David growled.

This heady sense of control over another person was one thing Michael simply couldn't handle with grace. Heedless of the other man's implicit warning, Michael slung David bodily onto the bed and crushed him into the mattress. Forcing David's hands toward the headboard, he yanked and pulled tightly, then sat back on David's pelvis with a triumphant smile .

"See?" Michael continued breathlessly, his eyes shining, "You barely even notice them when they're on."

"Michael, what the fuck did you do?" David exclaimed. He jerked his arms down sharply, only to have them brought up short by the monstrosities now adorning both wrists. Chest heaving, he glared up at the elder man. "Michael, seriously -- let me go!"

The other man glanced down at his empty hands. "Oops."

"What?" David snarled.

"Sorry, Davey, I can't do that," Michael answered in a sing-song voice, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Why. Not?" David ground out between clenched teeth.

"Seems I've dropped the key, mate," Michael replied softly, barely containing his laughter as David cursed aloud. "Now David, darling, no need for that -- I'm sure it's gotta be back behind the bed there, must've dropped it when I..."

" _Find_ it, motherfucker!"

If he'd been paying attention, Michael would not have missed the fury coloring David's voice, but self-satisfaction at his current power play was over-ruling all.

"All in due time, m'boy..." Michael murmured, gently stroking David's cheek while pressing the younger man's body into the mattress with the weight of his own. "All in due time."

"Hey, dudes--ah, shit!! Warn a guy, why don't ya?"

Michael glanced back over his shoulder and greeted Jason cheerfully, as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world to have one of your roommates bound to your bed with pink furry handcuffs. "Hey, Jase, what's goin' on?"

Jason studied the scene before him with an air of amusement. " _Well,_ " he murmured, "I was just coming to check if Dave was still interested in that coffee run, but if I'm interrupting something..."

Michael jumped lightly to his feet with a smile. "Nope, not a thing!" he replied brightly. "Hang on, man -- I'll go with ya!"

"Don't you fucking _dare,_ Michael Lee Johns!" David shouted, bucking uselessly on the bed as the two men turned to leave.

Michael shot him a easy smile from the bedroom doorway. "Don't worry, Davey -- I'll bring you something back, all right? Now just sit tight and don't go anywhere...."

"Michael, you mother-fucking asshole -- GET BACK HERE! MICHAEL!!"

\----------

Laughing aloud, Michael locked the apartment door on the stream of invectives flowing from within, and steered Jason ahead of him down the hallway.

Jason glanced at him sideways as they hit the lobby. Uncertain how to broach the subject, he opted for straightforward questioning. "Dude, what was that all about?"

"Oh, I bought these pink fuzzy handcuffs for Kristy Lee, as kind of a gag gift for her honeymoon." Michael couldn't seem to stop giggling, and although he felt he was missing the joke, Jason felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth all the same.

"But I wanted to be sure that they weren't easy to get out of, y'know, 'cause otherwise, what's the point, right?" Michael continued, draping an easy arm around Jason's shoulder as they stepped out of the hotel lobby into the bright California sunshine. "And believe me, Dave's got skills in that area. If there's a way to get out them, he'll find it."

"And if he can't get out of them? Will he be okay by himself like that?" Jason couldn't keep a hint of worry out of his voice, and Mike's smile softened in reassurance.

"Well then, we'll know that they'll hold just fine for Kristy Lee and her fiancé, won't we?" Michael squeezed his shoulder companionably, giving him a friendly little shake. "Jason, seriously -- he'll be fine. You'll see."

His eyes twinkled as he leaned closer.

"And when we get back, Jason? That's when the fun _really_ begins."

Jason grinned widely in reply.

\----------

"Fucking asshole...MICHAEL!"

David couldn't resist flinging one final curse at the bedroom door as he heard the faint click of the apartment door locking behind the departing men.

"God _damn_ you, Michael..."

Michael was correct in one regard -- if there was a way to get out of handcuffs, David would find it quickly. He prided himself on testing his equipment for failures and faults before using it on other human beings. In good conscience, he wouldn't ask them to endure anything that he himself could not...

Ten minutes later, he was forced to rest, the muscles of his arms and hands cramping from their exertions: yanking and twisting his wrists until they were bruised, trying to pry open or dislodge the clasps, to break the locks, or to separate the links of the chain -- all in vain.

Leave it to Michael to find the impregnable pair to purchase.

Having failed in that, he spent the next twenty minutes thrashing uselessly in an attempt to loosen the bar of the headboard to which he was secured.

Winded and gasping for breath, heart hammering in his chest, he was forced to admit defeat. Collapsing back into the pillows, he shimmied down the mattress to stretch the cramping muscles of his arms.

That left him fifteen more minutes in which to stew in his anger and humiliation, each emotion only feeding the other until he was simmering with barely-controlled rage, formulating entire one-sided conversations in his head.

 _'Safe, sane, and consensual' -- basic enough precepts to govern these 'interactions,' don't you think?_ he thought at the missing man. _It's so easy for you to play at BDSM, isn't it, Michael...you've_ always _treated it like a game. You know better than this._

As if on cue, his cell phone began to vibrate across the top of the dresser -- just a few feet from the bed, yet so far out of reach...

He glared at it, yanking his arm one final time in frustration before slamming his head back to the pillows.

"Fucking _perfect._ "

\----------

"Oh honey, we're home!!

Michael's muffled-yet-cheery voice carried into the bedroom through the closed door, but David did not reply.

Jason threw his companion a skeptical glance, and Michael shook his head dismissively. "He's fine, I promise," he murmured, and swung open the door.

"See? Just where we left him, Jason, and none the worse for wear," he continued in a brighter voice, swaggering toward the bed.

David refused to acknowledge their presences, keeping his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"And it looks like the cuffs held! Good to know, good to know," Michael mused, straddling the bound man with ease.

David's body stiffened in immediate response, every muscle tensing to pull away from the man above him.

Unbeknownst to Michael, it was both a reflexive and a protective move -- more for Michael's protection than David's, as it happened, preventing the younger man from lashing out at him -- but Michael, clearly considering himself in charge, certainly didn't see it that way. He saw only a man playing hard-to-get.

"Oh, David, David, _David,_ " he cooed softly, "What's with the bad mood?" His hands tugged at loosening David's belt, and set to work on David's fly, opening it just enough to tug the pants slowly down his hips. "Jason and I have really been looking forward to this...haven't _you?_ "

He paused, studying David's face for a moment before reaching up to stroke his cheek.

David turned his head to avoid Michael's hand. "Don't fucking touch me."

This time, there was no mistaking the barely-contained fury in his voice.

Irritated, Michael gripped his jaw roughly, and felt the muscles clench under his fingers. "C'mon, Davey," Michael muttered, pulling the other man's head around. "Don't be like that, baby..."

The murderous look in David's narrowed eyes as they cracked open nearly startled Michael out of his assumed role.

"...Dave?"

" _Tulsa._ "

The word came out clipped and terse, forced through David's clenched teeth.

Michael reacted as if he'd been stung.

Instantly, he scrambled to his feet, staring down at David with his mouth agape. "...What?" he huffed.

David's eyes flashed angrily. "You heard me, asshole. Don't make me fucking repeat it."

Michael's jaw worked for a silent second or two. He waited one, two, _ten_ beats before he spun to the dread-headed man, his words tumbling out in a rush.

"Fine! Jason, go to the head of the bed--"

"Wait, what's going on?" Jason broke in, confusion written all over his face.

"In a minute!" Michael barked. "For now, just listen to me! I'm going to pull the bed away from the wall; and I need you to pick up the key -- the handcuff key -- when it falls. Got that?"

Jason shot Michael another doubtful look, but took up his position as requested, grabbing the key as soon as it hit the floor and holding it out to Michael.

In a heartbeat, the handcuffs were dropping to the floor behind the bed, and David was suppressing a groan as he lowered his arms to his sides, his eyes slipping closed with relief.

"Sorry, David -- what's the problem?" Michael muttered, tentatively placing a hand on the other man's shoulder.

David was not in a forgiving mood. His free hand fisted into Michael's shirt, dragging Michael close enough to witness David's eyes blazing with a rage held back only by sheer force of will.

"Get. Out."

"What?" Michael sputtered in disbelief. "You can't just throw me..."

One massive shove from David was all the assurance Michael needed to see that yes, he _could_.

"Get. Out!" David snarled, jabbing a finger sharply towards the door. "Both of you--" as his fury grew to encompass Jason -- "Get the fuck out!"

Jason was the first to move, grabbing Michael's arm and dragging him away.

\----------

"Wow, what the hell just happened?"

Michael forced himself to meet Jason's puzzled gaze.

"Um, I'm not sure," he lied, trying to sound convincing and nearly failing. "Crossed signals, I guess?"

Frowning, Jason tilted his head, studying Michael's face for clues as to why that explanation sounded slightly off. Shrugging, Michael schooled his face to innocence.

"I'm serious, Jay -- he's never reacted like that before. Maybe I was too dominant, eh? Too much man for him to handle?"

Apparently Jason mistook the nervous quaver in Michael's voice for honest confusion. His expression softening, he patted Michael on the shoulder in consolation.

"Maybe he just wasn't ready for _me,_ " Jason replied playfully.

"Yeah, you're just so intimidating, Jase..." Michael retorted, rolling his eyes before fixing the dread-head with a smoldering look. "And sexy -- so very sexy..."

Jason blinked, cocking his head curiously as Michael's gaze intensified, and the other man stepped forward, winding a hand into Jason's dreads.

"Hey, what do you say we head to your room?" Michael suggested with an exaggerated wink, pushing his bravado to the fore while tamping down his misgivings. If that's the way David wanted to play, well... Michael Johns wasn't going to be jerked around. He'd find his fun elsewhere.

Slipping his arms around the younger man's waist, Michael pulled the smaller man against him, burying his face in the crook of Jason's neck, and chuckled at the shiver that ran through the younger man at his touch. His voice deepened seductively. "Just because _he's_ not in the mood doesn't mean we can't have our own fun, right?"

Jason gave him a look, and Michael shrugged. "Hey, he'll either get over it, or he won't. If he won't let me top him, I'll find someone who _will_ let me - I don't need him." He peered into Jason's face, smiling that slow, sexy smile that usually got him what he wanted. "Is it you, Jason? Will you give me what I want tonight?"

Ever agreeable, Jason pressed his lips to Michael's and pulled the older man through the doorway.

\----------

He remained motionless on the bed for several minutes, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

His rage had flared out the moment the two men had left, leaving an ashy taste in his mouth. An acrid scent was rising from his skin -- a scent he knew as fear -- but didn't understand why it was coming from him.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't figure out why.

Why his limbs felt leaden.

Why his chest had tightened.

Nor why he was abruptly laughing through hysterical tears.

He had to move.

He had to figure out how.

His phone skated across the dresser again, startling him out of his stupor. He stared blankly at the dancing phone until it had ceased ringing.

He wanted to talk to no one.

He needed to talk to _some_ one.

...He had to leave.

He finally struggled to his feet, palming the cellphone as he ghosted by.

He barely noticed the squeaking springs, the curses, the groans, the slapping of flesh on flesh, the raw sounds of sexuality coming from the other room. Such things did not concern him.

What concerned him was his failure.

As he had been trained to do, he analyzed it, analyzed _everything,_ went over every word and action and reaction; relived each and every moment of the total epic _bullshit_ that had led them to this point, where Michael would forget -- or choose to ignore -- everything that he'd ever taught the man about bondage and dominance.

Michael'd been so eager to learn, and David so willing to share his knowledge, to give Michael his trust... There'd been a different and unique sort of freedom in choosing surrender - he now wondered whether the fleeting novelty had truly been worth it.

What would he have done differently?

What had he done wrong?

He barely noticed the people he passed on the street, narrowly avoided getting run over several times, ignoring the horn blasts and curses from angry motorists...A left turn, several blocks, then a right, and several more...

He entered the next building he came to without thinking, his feet moving of their own accord.

In his hand, the phone again began to ring. He glanced at the caller ID.

He needed to talk to someone.

 _This_ one.

"Andy?"

"Dave! Dude, I've been calling for the past hour, man -- where have you been?"

"I'm sorry," he replied softly, "I was a little...tied up."

"Figuratively, or literally?" Andy was the only person he knew that could leer with his voice.

A faint smile cracked his face. "...Literally..."

"Oh ho!" the phone chortled in his ear. "Is that good or bad?"

He trailed to a stop, sagging wearily against the wall behind him.

"...Not so good, actually..."

The tone of his voice sent out giant flares and warning signals to the man on the other end of the line.

"Dave? Are you okay?"

"...No," he answered faintly. His knees buckled, and he slid down the wall to the floor.

"Should I come get you? Where are you?"

He glanced around the dark hallway and bowed his head. "...Andy? Open your door."

He heard footsteps approach at a run, and then light flooded the hallway as the door in front of him opened.

"...Oh, David..."

"Hi," he answered, and let the phone fall from his hand.

\----------

"So let me get this straight," Andy fumed, holding an ice pack to David's wrists. "He cuffed you, without your consent?"

"Yes."

"To his bed."

David nodded slowly.

"And then he left you there, alone, by _yourself_ \-- to get _coffee?_ "

Another weary nod, and David tipped his head back against the couch, closing his eyes.

"How long?" Andy demanded.

David frowned, trying to estimate in his head. "About forty-five minutes?"

"Forty-five _minutes?_ " Andy's voice might've called every dog in a ten mile radius. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

David shrugged, avoiding Andy's eyes.

Andy decided that he hated this subdued version of his friend, and silently cursed the jackass who had allowed this to happen.

"And then, after all of that -- he expected you to have sex with him?"

"Well, I'm assuming my pants were coming off for a reason."

Andy was silent a moment, watching his friend closely. His brow knit into a frown as David bit his lower lip, fighting and failing to suppress a tremor running through his solid frame.

"How did you get out of that bind, if you'll excuse the turn of phrase?" Andy quipped half-heartedly, his heart aching at the ghost of a smile fleeing across his friend's lips.

"I safed out."

David sounded absolutely miserable.

"Dave, you did the right thing," Andy replied, squeezing David's hands lightly as the other man again shrugged and looked away. "You absolutely did the right thing. I'm just surprised he honored it." There was more than a touch of bitter anger in Andy's voice, but David refused to comment on it.

"He very nearly didn't," he murmured instead.

"Oh, my God..." Andy's outrage was almost a physical presence in the room with them.

"Oh, down, boy!" David muttered sullenly. "He did honor it after all -- I think it surprised him more than anything, really... I don't think he expected to hear it from me. We've been practicing 'what it is that we do' for a while now, but we'd only recently started switching, and I guess he figured a former Dom just wouldn't _do_ that... But then again, I never would've expected a former sub to be so reckless...it's just...I was sure he knew better. I mean, I was _teaching_ him," David answered softly, his failure weighing even heavier upon him. "Maybe I didn't emphasize it enough..."

"Stop it, Dave -- stop making excuses for him!" Andy gripped David's hands tighter, willing him to meet his gaze. "You're a great teacher, David -- I know that from experience. Believe me, there's no excuse for what he did. None whatsoever."

"I know," David whispered.

"And on top of all of that -- when you needed him the most, after all he'd put you through -- he was actually _having sex_ with someone else?"

David met Andy's eyes for a split second before dropping his gaze a third time.

"You are not going back there tonight," Andy declared abruptly, sitting back on his heels. "There's no way in hell I'm going to allow it, Dave, so shut your damn mouth," he continued over his companion's muted protests. "I know what I'm talking about, David, and if you were thinking at all clearly right now, you'd know it too -- sub drop. If he won't take care of you, I will."

David's head dropped to his chest.

Andy rose to his feet, sliding onto the couch beside his friend. "Dave," he continued, his tone softening, "You already know what I'm going to say."

"Yeah, but it won't stop you from saying it."

"You can't trust him."

"...I know." David scrubbed his hands across his face, and let them fall limply to his sides as he drew a shaky breath. "...But I want to."

Andy heaved a soft sigh, sliding an arm around David's shoulders. "I don't see how you can."

David pulled his legs up onto the couch and stretched out, pillowing his head on Andy's lap. "I love him," he replied quietly.

With a sad smile, Andy combed his fingers through David's hair. "...I know."

Out of this whole fucked-up crazy thing, _that's_ what hurt the most.


End file.
